


Tracing Origins

by Artemicion



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Shounen-ai, Violence, originshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemicion/pseuds/Artemicion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a hiatus from his Champion duties,Wallace receives a disturbing phone call from a worried Mr. Stone. Steven has vanished. Worried, Wallace sets out to find some answers and—more importantly—his missing partner. Originshipping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. No profit is being made from this story, and it is purely for entertainment purposes.
> 
> Author's Note: A special thanks to my good friend Minyasta for her support and lovely editing skills. This is dedicated to another of my accomplices (you know who you are) who has adored this pairing since the beginning. I hope I've done it justice and to shut up that naysayer that bothered you claiming that fics involving plot and this couple do not exist.
> 
> This fic contains yaoi/shounen ai, meaning a man with another man and some very unplutonic thoughts. So if you're not into that sort of thing, probably best to hit the back button. The pairing is the unfortunately rare Originshipping (Wallace/Steven) so for those of you still brave enough to venture forward, enjoy!

_**  
**_

He let out a sharp hiss of pain as he gingerly felt along the gash that ran down his side. Blood, warm and wet, trickled from the downward slanting wound; it soaked the tattered remains of his shirt and suit jacket and left red smears on his fingertips.  His breaths came in harsh gasps, each draw of air burning his chest and becoming more labored as the beginnings of shock set in.

 _No. You have to get out of here._ He told himself firmly with a few hard blinks in an attempt to clear away the spots that started to plague his vision. He clung to the wall to stay upright. His legs felt like jelly and threatened to give out on him soon if he did not rest. Unfortunately, _resting_ wasn't an option available to him at the moment.

"He went this way!"

"Damnit."

Gasping softly, he began the slow, painful lurch forward. The ominous echo of thudding, booted feet was already too close and growing ever closer. The darkness of the tunnel shielded him but only for the moment. They were coming, and it wouldn't be long before he was discovered.

A gray haze was beginning to seep into the edge of his vision. _Notgoodnotgood_.

With a pained grunt, he pushed on towards the end of the darkened tunnel that would lead to his escape. Why couldn't evil madmen ever build their laboratories in more access-friendly places?

 _Of course. Because it would be **too easy.**_ He made it to the end and nearly groaned out loud when he saw the treacherous crashing waves several meters below. A fall from his position would promise instant death, if not by the unpredictable thrashing of the tumultuous waves than by being slammed into the jagged rocks that jutted out dangerously from the dark waters.

"There he is! This way!"

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder. The footsteps were growing louder, barely audible over the thunderous crash of waves outside. Terrific, his choices were now instant death by the waves or death by torture if he was captured. And option three?

Shakily, he fingered one of the Poke Balls hanging on his belt, nearly losing his grip on it from the blood on his fingers. "Aron, I choose you!"

There was a flash and then appeared a small creature with a large ovular head and steel-plated body. She growled fiercely, sensing the approaching danger and her master's distress. Her light blue eyes glowed dangerously even in the dark.  She assessed their situation, then looked at him in concern, but was already tensed and ready for combat by the time the first grunt appeared before them.

"Heh," sneered the grunt, "end of the line."

Even injured, blood spilling out of his wound, and vision now wavering, he refused to allow himself to be captured, especially not after what he'd seen in there. With great effort, he shoved himself away from the wall and held himself as tall as possible, facing down the growing number of Team Rocket grunts at the other end of the tunnel. Aron growled as she took a protective stance in front of him.  She was young, his newest addition, but she was feisty and strong.

The first grunt gave him the smarmiest smirk.  "You might as well give it up. You can't take _all_ of us."

He edged backwards a step, looking over his shoulder one more time for any hope of escape, a stray ledge, _anything_. His voice was, thankfully, devoid of the weakness that he felt at that moment, "Is that so?"

"Make it easy on yourself and just give up."

"Forget it, man. He wants to do this the hard way. Let's just clobber him and drag him back to the boss. He doesn't seem so tough now," came the cocky voice of another grunt.

"Or better yet, let's—"

A black shape hurled itself past his shoulder and slammed into the crowd of grunts. The first one who'd confronted him was thrown back violently, crying out as he was slammed into the other grunts.  The attack caused a roar of panic and confusion.   Legs and arms flailing out wildly.  Poke Balls flashed as the grunts desperately began releasing their Pokemon for help.  The black shape was a circular, swirling vortex of black shadow that seemed to make the dimly lit tunnel even _darker_ , as if it sucked all the meager light into itself.

His eyes widened when he recognized the move. Shadow Ball. But who…?

" _Gengar_ …" came a raspy voice at his shoulder, causing him to whirl in time to come face to face with a purple apparition of a Pokemon with glowing red eyes. He was floating just outside the tunnel leering at the grunts mischievously, enjoying the chaos that had been done by his own hands.

The darkness was closing in on Steven's vision, though. He swayed unsteadily. His eyes began to roll up into his head, knees buckling. Strong, gentle hands caught him, but he barely felt it as he began to slip into unconsciousness. The sound of Aron's ferocious cry and a hissed command of " _Night Shade!_ " followed him into the welcome arms of oblivion.

 _Wallace…_ Steven Stone thought longingly as his eyelids slid shut. _I'm so sorry…_


	2. Another Day in Ever Grande City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoenn Champion Wallace prepares to take leave from his duties for a much needed break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The universe that this story takes place in is a mix of what little of the manga that I have read combine with elements of the game, my interpretation, and—predominantly—the anime. I drew inspiration from all of them as I began to write this story and this is what I came up with! :)

Wallace thrummed his fingers against the railing impatiently as the battle between the latest challenger and Glacia raged. From his position in the booth high above Glacia's frigid battlefield, he waited to see if this challenger had what it took prove worthy of the title of Hoenn Champion. However, as things were progressing the way they were, it looked as though that would not be the case today.

Panic flashed across the challenger's face as Glacia's Glalie effortlessly brushed off the fire spin that his Ninetales had executed. The magnificent white creature had fought hard, managing to defeat two of Glacia's Pokemon in a row. Unfortunately,it seemed that he had met his match in Glalie.

Glacia stood tall as she called out her command. "Finish this, Glalie! Crunch!"

"Don't let it near you!" hollered the challenger to his Ninetales. "Keep it at bay with your flamethrower!"

Ninetales and Glalie were locked in a deadly battle of not only physical skills but also of wills. Despite the type advantage that Ninetales held over the Ice-type, not much could make up for the simple fact that Glalie was more experienced--a result of years of training and battle after battle with hopeful challengers. Then there was the fact that after two consecutive, brutal battles, Ninetales was tiring.

Glalie charged, dark energy radiating from his body. The energy swirled around the Ice-type Pokemon.  Suddenly a large, shimmery set of jagged-toothed jaws appeared before his face, open and eagerly awaiting a victim.

Ninetales took a few hops back and dug his heels into the ground, lowering his head a fraction. His luminescent yellow eyes began to glow as strength and energy gathered within him. The Fire-type's elegant fan of tails stood up on end, high and proud even though some scuff marks stained the creamy coat.

As Glalie jerked forward and unleashed the crunch attack, Ninetales' jaw snapped open and out exploded a stream of flames. The two attacks collided, and for a moment, the showdown became a swirling mess between an inky mass of shadows and a bright, scorching burst of flames. Despite his reservations about the young trainer, Wallace watched with some anticipation.

"You can do it, Ninetales!" came the challenger's encouragement.

Ninetales, though obviously exhausted and already approaching his limit, seemed heartened by his trainer's words. The room began to glow brighter. The temperature suddenly soared until some of the ice of Glacia's battle field even began to partially melt. The flames increased in intensity and ripped through the crunch attack. Glalie threw himself aside to avoid the onslaught of flames, which missed him by mere centimeters.

Glacia seemed unperturbed by the Ninetales' renewed determination, shouting. "Ice Beam!"

Glalie twirled and danced like a graceful figure skater across the ice as Ninetales' flamethrower pursued him. For such a bulky and odd-looking Pokemon, he was beautiful to watch in battle, especially when he was in his element: Ice.

The challenger crooned at his Pokemon to keep it up, to keep Glalie from ever getting the chance to use his attack. Wallace watched with interest as Ninetales padded across the ice with his own innate grace, managing somehow to stay afloat in an environment that couldn't have been more different from the rocky, fiery landscape that his species originated from.  He pressed on, continuing to unleash flamethrower after flamethrower while Glalie danced and dodged.

Wallace's eyes flickered to Glacia, who calmly watched as her Glalie focused more on evading than attacking. She seemed bored and disinterested. Wallace realized that she was waiting for the Ninetales to tire himself out, something that was happening rapidly before their eyes. It wouldn't be long now. Just one mistake was all it would take.

Ninetales landed hard from a leap after Glalie. One of his paws slid out from under him, and he jerked, frantically righting himself before he completely lost balance. But the damage had already been done; that had been the opening that Glacia had been waiting for.

"Now, Glalie!" Glacia commanded. Glalie was already moving. He shot across the ice, propelled by the slick surface. His body became a blur of gray and black, smashing into Ninetales. The Fire-type cried out in pain and surprise, tumbling back head over heels.

Glalie smoothly made an arc around the ice so that he was facing his struggling opponent again. Pinpricks of bright pale blue light gathered into a glowing ball of ice. After a few seconds, Glalie reared back and let the ice beam loose. It tore across the distance in jagged bolts of ice-blue.

Ninetales barely had time to stagger to his feet before the blast of ice hit him. He let out a high-pitched cry of pain, stumbling backward from the cold beam of ice particles. The blast was so intense that Ninetales' fur became coated with small icicles.  He tried valiantly to stand firm against the onslaught of ice, even as his trainer called out in alarm, but it was to no avail.

Glalie pushed the assault. Soon, Ninetales was no longer struggling. Instead, he was literally frozen in place, an elegant Pokemon encased in a large, ragged chunk of ice, unable to battle.

The challenger's jaw was agape. "Ninetales!"

"The challenger is unable to battle. The winner is Lady Glacia!" the official referee of the Hoenn Region Elite Four declared.

Much to the challenger's credit, he seemed more distraught by the sight of his precious Ninetales entrapped in ice rather than by his loss. Wallace was pleased to see this. At least this challenger was showing more concern for his Pokemon than for his failure in attaining the title of Champion.

"Oh, Ninetales!" exclaimed the young man as he slipped and slid his way across the ice. "I'll get you out of there! Return!"

"Tch," scoffed an annoyed Glacia as she regarded the challenger with much contempt. "Your Pokemon put up a good fight, but come back when you've trained a _team_ and not just one powerful Pokemon who dominates the battle after the others have merely worn your opponent down."

Without another word, she pivoted and retreated through the side door that had slid open now that the match had concluded. Wallace looked sympathetically down on the challenger as the referee escorted him out. _Such potential. Nothing a few more years of experience won't fix._

"Aww, it's over already? I was sure by the way he took me and Phoebe down that he'd at least make it to Drake," came Sidney's disappointed remark from behind him.

Wallace turned and gave the other man an amused smile. "You'd better not let Glacia hear you say that."

Sidney, ever the rebel, made a little noise of defiance, but the expression on his face quickly showed his agreement to that bit of wisdom.  Glacia had quite a temper.  It wasn't pleasant to be on the receiving end of one of her patented glares…glares that could be as cold as the magnificent power of any of her Ice-type Pokemon.

"It looks as though that was the last one for today," Wallace remarked when he saw no indication that there were any more trainers vying to take on the Hoenn Elite Four for the day.  He was both glad and disappointed.  It was a bother that he had to be present for _all_ of these challenges.  The majority of the trainers couldn't even defeat all of the members of the Elite Four and move on to challenge him.  It was, however, a burden that he would continue to bear so long as he held the rank of Champion.

"Thank god! I have been _dying_ to have a drink," Sidney exclaimed with a languid stretch of his arms. He smirked as he added, "You know…to, uh, _numb the pain_ of losing."

Both he and Wallace glanced over when the door slid open.  There stood Glacia, beautiful and dignified as ever though she looked a tad annoyed at the moment. She looked at the two of them. "Drake said you two were up here."

"A glorious battle, as always, Glacia," Wallace praised.

"Nothing short of perfection. That kid didn't have a chance," added Sidney.

The compliments rolled off of her like water. Instead of responding, she said. "Perhaps we should lobby the Pokemon Association with stricter guidelines as to what a trainer is required to do before he or she is allowed to challenge us." Her fine eyebrows drew into a frown. "I tire of being summoned to these pointless battles with passionless fools who are barely skilled enough to be trainers let alone Pokemon Masters."

Wallace and Sidney exchanged a look before Sidney complacently said. "Oh, now now, Glacia. There's no need to be so harsh on them. We all had to start somewhere."

Glacia just raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, so Sidney changed tactics. "Forget about them. Come have a drink with me and Phoebe.  She said she's heading home tonight, so I thought it'd be fun to give her a good going home bash.  What do you say?"

"Well…" Glacia hesitated, still leery of the many social events that she was required to take part in as a trainer of the Elite Four.

Sidney turned the charm up a notch. "Come on, Glacia. It won't be the same without you!  Plus, we won't see Phoebe for months!  We HAVE to make this one memorable.  Until she comes back, that is."

After another beat of hesitation, Glacia nodded. "Fine. I will join you two misfits for the night."

Surprise flashed across Sidney's face; Glacia normally turned his invitations down without a second thought. "You will? Oh! I mean awesome! That's great!" He smirked, then, "Ha! I knew you'd cave in to my charms eventually!"

Glacia merely rolled her eyes and looked to Wallace. "Will you be joining us, Wallace?"

Wallace smiled but shook his head.  "I'm afraid I must decline. I, too, am leaving for a time."

"You are?" Sidney blinked at this and then gave him a sly smile. "Ah, let me guess…Steven? Oww!"

"Have some class. It's none of your business," Glacia hissed with a condemning look as Sidney rubbed his head where she'd whacked him.

Wallace couldn't help but chuckle.  Glacia and Sidney were so different that it was always amusing to watch them interact.  He took pity upon Sidney and said. "No, no. It's not that at all. Steven is on a dig with his father. I've arranged to spend a few weeks in Sootopolis City to train with Master Juan at the Gym."

His words had a note of wistfulness and excitement.  He was looking forward to the break.  Being the Champion of Hoenn was an honor…but a time consuming one. The challenges made to the Elite Four and Champion were carefully screened from a selective pool of those who had not only collected all of the gym badges of the region but who had also made it to the top three of the Hoenn Conference. It was with this strict set of stipulations that the Pokemon Association ensured that not just any trainer with some skills could somehow weasel through to challenge the top five trainers of the Hoenn region.

While it worked to keep the number of challenges down, it was still a pain. At each challenge, every member of the Elite Four and Champion had to be present, lest there finally come a day when a challenger worthy to attain the title of the next Hoenn Champion enter Ever Grande City.  Wallace had been waiting for the period during which there would be no challenges for a while, such as the period was about to begin.  Normally, he would spend the time with his lover, the ex-Champion and heir of the illustrious Devon Corporation family, Steven Stone.

However, it looked as if he would not get to see Steven for some time, at least not until the end of the latest geological excavation that Steven and his father had gone on. Wallace had been disappointed when Steven told him about the coming dig. They were both Pokemon Masters with their own busy lives outside of the title; time together was rare enough. But…one look at how excited Steven had been, by the way his pale gray eyes seemed to light up as he spoke animatedly of the potential rocks they could find, had made Wallace smile and simply wish him a safe trip.

Steven must have sensed his true feelings, though, for he had smiled gently and took Wallace's hand. He had pulled him closer and kissed him, first on the lips and then on the forehead, murmuring against Wallace's skin, " _I'll be back as soon as possible. I promise_."

Wallace was so lost in the warm memory that he almost didn't notice that Sidney and Glacia were staring at him.  Sidney laughed and remarked, "Uh oh. He has that look in his eye again, Glacia."

Wallace flushed as Glacia wryly added. "Perhaps the Sootopolis story is merely a cover-up and he is going to see Steven after all."

"Yes, that sounds about right," said Sidney snidely, chuckling.

"Oh really, now," Wallace chided. He shook his head and threw his hands up in defeat. "Leave me be and go drink yourselves silly.  I take my leave now. Farewell until the next time that we meet!"

Sidney's smug voice followed him out the door and down the stairs: "Tell Steven we say hi!"

Wallace smiled to himself and just shook his head, used to such teasing. Still, he couldn't help but sigh to himself wistfully. _If only I_ were _going to meet Steven!_


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven's plight deepens. Meanwhile, Sootopolis City welcomes her Champion home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been asked before about my ranking system and here was my explanation:
> 
> As for the ranking system of the Silver Conference, I am mixing anime canon with something of my own concoction. It is the only way I could rationalize how anyone could be considered 'worthy' to challenge a region's Elite Four and Champion (since the anime never acknowledges this at all).
> 
> Of course, you have to be among the top three to be considered ready to challenge them, but I think that the Pokemon Association would also rank the other participants of the various Leagues (even the losing ones) in order to keep a record on each person for the reason that they might one day challenge the Elite Four. So in a way, it's an unofficial ranking but a way for the Association to give trainers something to strive for: to work their way up to face the best of the best.

Steven drifted back to consciousness to the sound of a soft, worried voice beside his ear. He wasn't sure what was happening or why there was a muted ringing in his head. His limbs felt as if they'd been encased in heavy cement. In fact, his entire body felt heavy, and it was an uphill battle to even force his eyes open.

Of all the things his sluggish mind had expected, finding himself in the arms of a woman dressed in a _Team Rocket_ uniform was somewhere last on the list.  He stared at her for a long, dazed moment and tried frantically to figure out how he had gotten himself into this predicament.  She wasn't paying him any attention, though. Her face was tense, pinched with worry as she gazed somewhere he didn't have the strength to lift his head to see.

"Damn it," the dark-haired woman muttered. He winced as her firm grip on his body upset the gaping hole in his side. His groan made her head snap around to look to look at him. Under the dark Team Rocket cap, he found a pair of pale green eyes examining him. When she spoke there was a kindness he didn't expect to hear from a Team Rocket grunt. "Oh god.  Hold on, okay?  I'm going get you out of here."

Steven's head lolled back limply. H e regarded her with a wary look.  He was in pain but still coherent enough to know that this wasn't right.  Team Rocket?  What was going on?  "Who…why are you…"

His words were lost as the world shook violently. The thundering rumble of an explosion trembled through the earth and scattered terrified Pokemon from the trees surrounding them. The woman tightened her hold on him again and lurched away, screaming for someone over her shoulder to ' _COME ON!_ ' as Steven gasped in agony at the fingers digging unintentionally into his wound.

A jolt of adrenaline, urged by his pain, shot through him.  He weakly tried to dislodge her fingers. His vision was flashing in alarming hazes of red, and the pulsating waves of fire that came from the wound made him wheeze and splutter for her to let go, _please_.

"Stop it!  We need to get out of here!" She snapped and suddenly veered, throwing them both to the ground as a beam of hot red blasted over them, incinerating everything in its path. She had been kind enough to throw him down on his uninjured side but the impacted jarred his entire body. The agony blossomed anew. His tortured groan was lost in the calamity of falling, burning trees and terrified Pokemon skittering away.

"Gen-gar."

Steven cracked his eyes open a sliver while he continued to pant in response to the waves of pain. Standing beside his head was a Ghost-type--the same one that had saved him, his mind helpfully supplied. Only the mischievous leer on his face was now a tense look in the woman's direction—presumably his trainer.

"Gengar. Gennn garr…" he rasped.

"Yeah, I got that," the woman sighed and pushed herself up into a crouch.  "How many?"

His reply was lost on Steven, for a sharp, joyful cry zipped through the fog of pain in his head like a welcome beam of sunshine.

"Aron!" Aron cried and hurried over to him when she saw that he was awake. Steven turned his head to seek out his Pokemon.

"Aron…you're okay…" He breathed, feeling drained. The pain had begun to lessen in agonizingly slow increments, leaving him exhausted and out of breath. His eyes were watering as he gave Aron a weak smile.

"Aron…" Aron chided and nuzzled him under his chin affectionately. The Metal-type then sniffed worriedly at his wound and threw him an anxious look, "Arrr-on?"

He was asking him if he was okay. The Pokemon knew him well and knew by his sluggish responses that the wound was far worse than Steven would let on. Not that he was trying to fool anyone into thinking otherwise. He simply didn't have the strength.

The exchange hadn't been lost on the woman. She eyed him carefully, assessing his condition. Then she informed him tartly.  "They're gaining on us.  Fast.  If we don't keep moving, we don't have a chance.  If we can make it to west coast by sun down, we can hijack one of the boats and use the darkness for cover…"

She was silently asking him to hold on for just a bit longer.  He appreciated that she wasn't even attempting to hide how dire a situation they were in.  His thoughts were becoming foggy from the blood loss, and he didn't like it.

Steven squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths to calm himself, the constant ache in his side becoming _slightly_ more bearable.  "Then…we should get going."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Wallace was welcomed home by a warm gust of salty air against his face. His eyes drifted closed, and he emitted a low hum of pleasure, making sure to take a deep breath of the tropical atmosphere. It was a refreshing change from the coldness that permeated the Elite Four's tower in Ever Grande City.

 _It's nice to be home._ Wallace thought.  He opened his eyes to a chorus of cheering that filled the partially enclosed chamber of Sootopolis City.  Streamers of all colors were hung along the buildings.  People were jam-packed in the streets and walkways, eagerly leaning over the railings waving and joyously calling his name. Children were cascading confetti and flower petals from the homes that hung over the water.  A short distance from the dock was a scattering of floats in the water, all which contained people and Pokemon making music on various instruments.

It was a hero's welcome home.  It was Sootopolis City's way of reminding the world how proud they were to have bred among them the Hoenn Elite Four Champion.  It was all for _him_.

 _I'll never get used to this._ Wallace thought, cheeks a touch pink, as he waved in reply. As if they heard his thoughts, he could feel the amusement vibrating in the Poke Balls that lined his belt.   _Ah, let us not forget the real stars…_

"Your welcome fills this humble soul with warmth, my dear people!  But allow me to bring out the true heroes of our tale! My flowers of the Sea…emerge!" He announced and threw all six of the Poke Balls at once.

The boisterous cheers increased in volume.  Excitement electrified the air as Wallace's faithful team of Water Pokemon appeared in a brilliant flash of light. Wallace smiled serenely down on them, a deep sense of awe rising in his chest like it always did whenever he witnessed the majesty of his Pokemon.

Wailord eagerly made a beeline towards the harbor.  His impressive size combined with his dark navy colored hide was a sight to behold.  He eased along side the underwater ferry that Wallace stood on the deck of, eyeing him happily.  Then he let out a deep, brassy keen to greet the denizens of Sootopolis.

Behind him was Whiscash.  The clever-if somewhat silly-Pokemon's charming awkwardness made him a hit among those who laid eyes on him.  Wallace too was swept up by the Pokemon's unexpected charisma and often found himself laughing whenever Whiscash purposely did strange things in order to shock people or his opponents.  Even now he was entertaining: swooping in graceful loops through the water as he beamed at the crowd.

Next to him was Ludicolo, who slid through the water smoothly, using only his stubby legs to propel him.  He was happily waving and blowing kisses back to the people.  The green sombrero-like top of his head combined with his chubby yellow body made for a funny sight but there was no mistaking the power the grass and water-type commanded.  He and Whiscash basked in the attention they received with little shame.

Following to the left of the ferry was the more sedated trek of Tentacruel.  The large jelly-fish like Pokemon slid so effortlessly through the water that it was nothing short of watching a hot knife slice through butter.  He ignored the cheers and calls of the crowd completely, his sharp eyes fixed on the harbor and food.  The large red jewel-like knobs on his head seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his thick tentacles trailed after him like snakes.

Moving to the other side of the ferry was the team's other reclusive member: Gyarados. The blue serpentine-like Dragon-type was shyer than his fierce appearance would lead others to believe. While he was a terrible force to be reckoned with in battle, Wallace knew firsthand how his Gyarados often shied away from the limelight. One of his challenges as a young trainer had been to help a shy Magikarp to overcome stage fright. Now, Wallace only smiled fondly as he watched that same Pokemon-in his much more ferocious shell-as he cast a timid glance to all the faces adoringly fixed on him.

Last but not least was the heart of Wallace's line up.  Wallace's breath hitched at the breath-taking sight of the Pokemon that swam right in front of the ferry.  Milotic, one of the rarest and most precious treasures of the Sea. Milotic…his kindred spirit.  The sleek Water-type was the paradigm of elegance as he proudly led the ferry and fellow Pokemon to shore like a king would his court after a long march home.  Even those in attendance felt the presence—the _radiance_ —of the Pokemon and watched him in complete and utter wonder.

Wallace lifted his eyes from his beloved six.  A figure patiently stood on the harbor.  His presence was a commanding one, only accentuated more by the crisp decorated blue overcoat and dark purple suit beneath it. Wallace felt himself instinctively straightening up at the sight of his old mentor, the Sootopolis Gym Leader Juan.

"Welcome home, Wallace! It has been a long time," Juan greeted with an elegant bow, an arm folding across his abdomen and the other behind his back.

"Too long, my Master," Wallace answered, returning the bow the moment his feet left the ferry and hit the harbor.

When they straightened, the pride in Juan's gaze filled Wallace with warmth.  Even now, years after becoming his own man and a great trainer in his own right, Wallace still found a deep sense of accomplishment in impressing his teacher.  The man's brilliance, talent, and sophistication had been what he'd sought his entire childhood as he studied to be worthy of even calling himself a student of the great Juan, the Master of Illusions.

Juan greeted his Pokemon properly. Then he beckoned for Wallace to walk with him. "I admit. It was a pleasant surprise to hear from you, my student. And especially that you would be returning to your home during your next free interval!  So even the Elites must rest…"

Wallace chuckled at the ribbing.  "We've a few months in between this cycle of challengers until the next, after the next Hoenn Conference.  I thought it best to spend it reacquainting myself with my origins."

At this, Juan cocked an impish eyebrow at him. "Ah, and this would have nothing to do with the fact that the illustrious Devon Corporation president and his son are on another excavation?"

"Oh? That is news to me.  I'll have to pass along a word of good luck to them," Wallace smoothly replied, but there was a twinkle in his eye.  Juan let out a low chortle, shaking his head.  Wallace glanced to the Gym that sat isolated on its own island near the center of the crater of water in Sootopolis.

"None of that now, Wallace," Juan chided, making Wallace give him a curious look.  His former teacher merely smiled and gestured to all the eager faces still on him and the festive surroundings. "This party is _your_ homecoming. What gentleman would dare to refuse hospitality when it is so graciously given? Come, my dear student, let us celebrate your return the proper way!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not for the first time, Cyrus Kendall wondered what in the hell had possessed him to follow the path that he had. He'd grown up in a small town in Kanto, had attended and graduated from one of the top Academies in the region, and had gone on to become a fantastic Pokemon trainer who'd even made it as far as sixth place in the Silver Conference and Fourth in a minor League in Johto. With such accomplishments under his belt, he could have gone on to do whatever he wanted.

"So tell me again, _why_ I'm on communications duty?" He whined and slumped back into the cheap pleather back of his chair.

His legs were outstretched and crossed at the ankles on the wide computer console in front of him.  An array of monitors spanned the length of an entire wall, each containing a different scene from various places around the world.  With the flick of a few switches and the press of certain buttons, he could tap into a staggering number of audio networks that would transmit all sorts of juicy information through the headphones currently resting on his neck.  He merely, however, dangled his hand down and scratched the soft fur behind his faithful companion's ear, letting out a gaping yawn.

"Groww…" came the bored snuffle at the foot of the chair.  Seagram was a male Growlithe that was happiest when he was outside.  Whether it was sniffing out impossible trails left behind by fleeing criminals or the brutal thrill of combat or just relaxing in the fresh air, Seagram didn't care as long as he wasn't cooped up inside…like he was _now_.

"Sorry, pal. I know you hate this even more than I do," Kendall apologized, offering his partner a small, lop-sided smile.  Seagram just let out a sigh and continued to stare absently at the cold, metallic gray wall underneath the control console.

 _I'd better just leave him alone._   Kendall thought and threaded his fingers together behind his head, leaning back into his seat.  He gazed absently at the wall of monitors, not really seeing any of them as his mind drifted into daydreams.  He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he was pulled out of a most comfortable fantasy about that cute girl in Research and Development.  Seagram had suddenly jumped to his feet and made an alarmed noise.

Kendall nearly fell out of his char. He glanced at the Growlithe, "Seagram? What is it? What…"

He trailed off when he realized that something was _beeping_.

His eyes automatically went to the assortment of monitors. He frantically scanned each, jabbing at certain keys on the keyboard to find the source of the beeping.  This wasn't his field of expertise but if there was one thing he knew, it was that beeping was _never_ good.

Seagram leapt up so that his front paws rested on the console. His sharp eyes roved over the monitors along with Kendall's.  Kendall rapidly searched for the source of the noise.  It may be nothing…or something big. He suspected the latter since in his line of business, trouble was not scarce.

"Ah, I think I've got it," He said and typed in the command to bring up the right monitor. The screen seemed to shoot right out of the monitor and enlarge before their eyes into a holographic projection. It took Kendall only a second to realize that they were staring at the obscure, curved green lines of a map of some unknown place. There were a few marks of interest made on the map but near the left edge was where Kendall's eyes were drawn. There was a large red dot fixed there, blinking brightly and calmly though the beeping that had alerted them to take a look was a clear call of alarm.

Kendall felt his hear sink as he saw the small notation that accentuated the dot:

_D2 S7 F.N. Signal lost at 4:24:49A.M. EST_

"Shit."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As his homecoming party continued to rage outside, Wallace excused himself for a few moments to get his head together and—namely—call Steven.  He wanted to check in with his lover to see if he'd safely made it to the dig site.  Not that he really needed to.  Steven was more than capable of taking care of himself.  However, to hear Steven confirm that he was where he was supposed to be reassured Wallace.  So it was a ritual that he steadfastly followed, even though Steven teased him for it.

_Steven's laugh was warm and rich.  His silver eyes took on a deep gold-orange glow in the wake of the fire cheerfully burning in the fireplace.  Wallace was held entranced by them as the arms around his neck drew him downward. The two men lay entwined together on a large, thick rug spread in front of the fireplace of Steven's small home in Mossdeep City.  Nothing was between them but the heat of skin against skin.  A thin blanket of cashmere was pooled against the small of Wallace's back and draped only to cover their legs._

" _My big protective husband…haha, how sweet," Steven murmured, his lips an agonizingly short distance from Wallace's, so close that he could feel the small puffs of air on his lips when Steven spoke. Wallace tightened his arms around Steven's waist, his eyes never leaving the molten pools of silver and gold that held him. Steven smirked, a tiny upward movement at the corner of his lips that spoke volumes._

_He pulled one hand back to rest against the side of Wallace's face. His fingers loosely raked through the loose blue tresses of hair that spilled down the sides of Wallace's face. Wallace's skin prickled and burned simultaneously under the pleasant, tentative touch._

_Steven's smile broadened and Wallace felt himself in awe. It was ethereal to witness such beauty: the melding of his lover's face with the light of the fire blazing beside them. It took Wallace's breath away, and suddenly, he didn't want for there to be even the few centimeters separating them any longer. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to Steven's, enjoying the small, delighted noise he was rewarded in response…_

"Er…Sir Wallace? Are you okay?"

Wallace nearly jumped out of his skin. His sharp movement sent his cell phone flying out of his hand, and the person that had startled him dove to catch it.  Instead of shattering to pieces against the ground, the phone ended up safely nestled in the hands of a frizzy-haired, freckle-faced young girl.

Two large, doe-like brown eyes appeared from under the mop of bushy brown hair.  They settled on the phone in her hands and the girl let out a sigh, "Whew! That was close!"

"Oh my heavens. Forgive me! Are you okay?" Wallace said, extending a hand to help her up.

She misinterpreted his gesture and handed over the cell phone.  Before he could say anything further, she had bounced back to her feet, brushing off dirt from her clothing and muttering darkly about a newly formed scrape on her arm.  Wallace was about to apologize again, but then she looked up, not even the slightest bit begrudging as she smiled widely at him. There were actually _stars_ in her eyes.

"Oh, I've waited SO long to meet you, Sir Wallace!" the girl, who couldn't have been any older than twelve, gushed breezily, eyeing him with nothing short of adoration.

A little taken back by the unexpected reaction, it took a moment for Wallace regain his bearings, "Um…thank you. For my phone, I mean.  Are you alright…miss…?"

She made a small noise of annoyance at herself and then offered him that hundred-watt smile again.  She extended a confident hand. "Oh! It's B-Brenne! Just Brenne, Sir Wallace! And I'm so _very_ honored to meet you! I…I can hardly believe it!"

Though Wallace was no stranger to the respect he commanded from younger trainers (even if all the gushing and idolizing was embarrassing), he couldn't help but to smile at the earnest joy in her face.  He shook her hand, dipping his head.  "The honor is mine. Please. Let us cast aside titles. Call me Wallace, for I am in your debt."

A pink tinge flooded Brenne's face; she looked as if he'd just bestowed upon her a sacred relic.  She gave him a bashful smile and then said.  "It was nothing." Then her face brightened when she seemed to suddenly remember something, "Oh! Master Juan sent me to find you, S…er, W-Wallace! The mayor is about to give a speech in your honor."

"Ah, of course," Wallace said. "Please tell him I will be out momentarily. I need only a minute."

Brenne nodded, her frizzy mess of hair bouncing on her head.  "Yessir! I will tell him." She turned to go, paused, and turned, offering another large toothy smile.  "It…it was nice to meet you! Imseriouslyyournumberonefan!"

With that rushed squeak, she fled.  Wallace was left to blink, a smile tugging again at his lips as his mind tried to keep up with the girl's youthful whirlwind of energy. Shaking his head ruefully, he dialed Steven's number from memory and turned back to the beautiful mosaic of turquoise, blue, and green tiles that adorned the back of the building he'd hidden himself behind.  He pressed the phone against his ear and let his eyes wander over the tiles as he awaited a response.

The cold voice of a recording filled his ears. " _Unable to connect call. The user you are trying to reach is not connected to any accessible network. Please try again later."_

Wallace pulled the phone back and frowned at it.  It wasn't too farfetched to receive this sort of message since the excavations often led Steven deep underground where digital signals couldn't reach the outside world. What _was_ strange was that Steven—mindful of Wallace's worrying—always called before he delved into his explorations if he did not hear from Wallace first.

 _Could he have forgotten? No, that's not like him…_ Wallace thought, the seeds of worry planting themselves into his thoughts.  He was distracted from his thoughts by a joyous roar from the crowd, followed by an announcement that Mayor Flo had just entered the scene…probably to make her speech welcoming _him_ home.

It would be unforgivably discourteous to be absent during the grand public spectacle.  Sighing, Wallace ducked out of the quiet nook and fingered the redial button, hoping to somehow catch just a few words with his other half before diving back into the all too vigilant eye of the public.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Somewhere deep in the heart of a dense, dark forest, a Rocket peon crouched to examine whatever it was that his partner, a "Vulpix" had just found.  It wasn't hard to identify, even smashed to pieces as it was. It was a cell phone, a pricey one at that. _That_ obviously hadn't stopped the boot someone had taken to it.

"Heh," he snorted, amused, "so the bitch realized how we were tracking them. Ah well. It doesn't matter. This fucking rock is nothing but an island. They don't have anywhere to go but to the other side. And when they _do_ get there and run into our guys waiting…"

He smirked and mimed with his thumb the picture of his throat being slashed.  The "Vulpix" just coldly looked at him, waiting patiently for them to continue the hunt. If he could be sure that she wouldn't tear his hand off, he would have pet her like he did his regular Pokemon.  Alas, though, she was not a regular Pokemon.  So to avoid such discomfort, he ignored the impulse and rose, reaching for the radio clipped to his belt.  Time to radio the find in.  They were just one step closer to finding their prey.


	4. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven's mysterious rescuer tries to keep them both alive and out of the hands of Team Rocket. Safe in Sootopolis, Wallace worries and dreams about the past.

The sound of soft cursing was what ushered Steven back into the waking world.  There were a few seconds of fear and confusion.  He did not know where he was or how he had gotten there.  His brain, which his sluggish senses were trying frantically to consult for answers, was providing no explanation--not for how he'd gotten into this state nor why his body was in _pain_.  The fear and confusion began to transform into panic.

 _Stay calm, you idiot.  Take a breath.  Where_ are _you?_   He told himself, his logical mind kicking in to stem the tide of panic.

He forced his eyes open and let the world focus.  It was dark, wherever he was.  He was lying on hard ground, propped carefully up on his uninjured side. Also, he was behind a…bush?  What in the world?  Was this some kind of dream...?

He started out of these fuzzy musings at the crisp, worried voice that was jabbering quietly somewhere to his right.

"Gengar, what about the northern path?  There too?"

A gravelly voice grimly replied. "Gennn gar. Gen gen gengar."

"Shit.  They're cutting us off faster than we can move."

Steven stared at the pair--in particular at the woman and the large, distinguishable red 'R' of Team Rocket on her uniform.  Who was this?  After a few minutes of listening to the woman discuss possible routes of travel with the Gengar, the memories slowly returned to him.  The lab.  The experiments.  The gunshot and his tumble from the high rail he'd thrown himself over to escape.   _They saved me.  But why?_

"Aron?"

Steven jumped, taken off guard by the concerned, high pitched voice that suddenly appeared beside his ear.  His alarm dissipated the moment Aron's glowing blue eyes appeared in his line of sight.  He sagged back against the hard surface he was leaning against and uttered in relief.   "Aron…"

"Arrr on. Arrr onnn," Aron purred worriedly.  She nuzzled him under his chin, mindful to avoid the side of his body that radiated fire.

Steven attempted to smile reassuringly but could manage only a weak upturn of his lips.  His eyelids were growing so heavy that it was hard to concentrate, to think.  Aron's shiny metallic figure was blurring before him as it was.   She looked funny, like a mess of fuzzy blobs in different colors that made sounds and…

"Aron..?"

Steven jumped, eyes snapping open.  They wildly darted back and forth to take in his surroundings.  His heart was pounding in tune with the pain that pulsed in his side.  Aron let out an alarmed yip when she noticed his distress and began to plead for him to _calm down_.

Disoriented, Steven frowned.  Aron was here?  And…where _was_ here?  What was going on?  Wait…was he _bleeding?!_

He began to probe with his fingers to find out.  It quickly proved to be a mistake, and he gasped as his fingertips brushed against a band of fabric wrapped around his lower torso.  The tips of his fingers came away wet, and even in the dim light that filtered through the leaves and branches covering him and Aron, Steven could make out the distinct red of blood.  His head jerked downward and all he could do was blink in bewilderment at the missing half of his shirt.  

A black makeshift bandage was stretched around his entire torso.  It took him far to long to realize that it was the remains of his jacket.  Blood soaked what remained of his button up.  His pounding head was blank, offering no explanation. Panic quickly crept back into his thoughts.

Aron wiggled forward and pressed its head into his chest, cooing. "Aron! Ar-on! Arr onn!"

"Aron," he gasped in midst of the panic.  He choked and let out a string of wet, painful coughs.  The spastic motion sent fire jettisoning through his body from the wound in his side.  Steven squeezed his eyes shut, winded, and instinctively curled up.  He clung to a frantic Aron like a child would a toy as he waited for the pain to abate.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.  A low voice followed. "Hey, hey!  It's okay.  Relax!  Just calm down and breathe.   _Breathe_ , Mr Stone.  Aron, move for a second.  Let me see."

"Arronn…" Aron whimpered in apology and squirmed out of Steven's arms.

Steven felt himself be gently pushed back onto his back.  He weakly forced his eyes open and blinked several times to dispel the mist of tears that obscured his vision.  Much to his astonishment, the woman with dark hair and a _Team Rocket_ uniform was crouched over him.  She was carefully moving the bandage aside, checking his wound while muttering worriedly under her breath.

He was too disoriented by pain and fatigue to get past how absurd it was that a Team Rocket minion was actually checking over his injury with the utmost care.  He stared at her woozily until she seemed finished and pulled the bandage back into place.  Swallowing to wet his parched throat, Steven asked.  "Who are you?"

Her hands paused in their gentle prodding.  "What do you mean?  You don't remember...?"

She looked up and pierced him with a critical, pale green gaze that explored his face.  Had he been in a more lucid state, he might have noticed the dread that filled her eyes before she wordlessly moved and lifted his head, tilting it forward.  He  _did_ let out a feeble protest as his face was practically shoved into her bosom while she inspected something on the back of his head.

He let out a muffled cry of pain as her fingers raked through his hair and hit a sore spot.  She cursed again. "Damnit, I didn't notice this before.  Damn damn damn…okay, okay. Relax. Okay..."

She reached back into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a roll of gauze.  Steven stared at it, feeling faint and unsteady.  He blinked slowly.  "What…?"

"I think you have a concussion," She explained in a terse voice.  He winced as he felt her fingers tentatively edge their way around the newly discovered wound on the back of his head.  So _that_ was the source of that infernal hammering in his skull.  His breath caught in his throat as she began to touch the sensitive area on the back of his head.

"It's not bleeding, but I'm going to wrap it just in case it gets reopened," she went on, doing exactly as she said.

Steven gave her an uncomprehending look. "Why…would it get…reopened…?"

Her eyebrows furrowed worriedly but she just shook her head, muttering. "Nevermind.  Stay still."

"Gen-gar," the Ghost-type urgently said from somewhere behind the woman.

"Yes, Gengar.  I _know_.  Believe me, I know!" she retorted, tightening the bandage around Steven's head.  He winced as the added pressure sent another dull spike of pain shooting through the already familiar throbbing between his temples.  She muttered an apology and then jumped to her feet.  Her attention was already back on Gengar. "Okay, we might have bought ourselves a few minutes but-"

Something she saw that Steven could not made her stop mid sentence and drop low. She threw her arm over him and dragged him down to the earth as well.  He stifled his cry in his arm as the action disturbed his side once more.  The fast maneuver made him light-headed.   Before Steven could even formulate a question as to _why_ they were suddenly face down in the dirt, he got an answer.

A boot came down with a resounding thud unto a twig, snapping it neatly in two just a few feet from their location.  The boots were separated from Steven's face only by darkness and a few measly leaves and branches that belonged to the thick brush that he and the woman were hidden behind.  Just one quick movement, one tiny misstep, and they could be seen.

He felt the tension in the woman's body.  He ventured a look in her direction and found her staring intently at the booted feet before them. Neither of them dared to breath, counting the endless seconds before this menace would depart.  Then he saw her make a sharp movement of her head.

When Gengar suddenly appeared in front of them, using his ability to phase through matter, Steven realized she'd been signaling to the Pokemon.  Gengar silently crouched in front of them within the branches and leaves, his blood red eyes fixed on the Rocket.  He was both a shield and a very tangible threat to the interloper.  Steven didn't even dare to look down when he felt the comforting weight of Aron press against him, his eyes transfixed on what havoc Gengar was about to bring down upon the Rocket.

They watched as the Rocket scanned the area. A thin beam of light was shining across the small enclosure of trees and bushes from the scope on the weapon that he swung around.  The light was blinding as it was aimed in their direction. Steven winced, squinting against the onslaught even as his heart lept into his throat in alarm.  Aron tensed at his side in anticipation for battle while the woman stiffened.  Gengar edged forward…

Then, as fast as the beam of light was on them, it was swung away again. The Rocket let out hefty sigh, irritated. There was the squall of a radio, followed by his gruff voice. "Sector four clear. If they came this way, I ain't seen em' yet."

A crackle on his radio was followed by a gruff voice.  "Roger that, Sev. Keep your eyes peeled. They can't have gotten that far from your position."

"Roger. Over and out," Sev answered. He made another cursory glance around before sighing and marching off.

Steven exhaled a soft, shaky breath.  Gengar tentatively leaned his head out to make sure that they were safe.  Then signaled to his trainer that the path was clear. For now, anyway.

The woman visibly relaxed.  Steven, on the other hand, felt drained by the scare.  The adrenaline that had kicked on quickly faded.  Feeling faint, he sagged against the unfamiliar woman, and she hastily wound an arm around him to catch him.

"Aron?" asked Aron softly, but Steven couldn't muster the energy to comfort her.

"Just hang on for a little longer," the woman urged quietly.  When his eyelids began to shut of their own accord, she gave him a stern but gentle shake. "Hey. Don't fall asleep. We can't risk it.  Not with your head injury."

What she didn't understand was that he was _trying_ to stay awake, even when the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness welcomed him.  Would it really be so bad for him to just give in? Maybe he could just shut his eyes for a few seconds? No, that wouldn't be so bad at all--

She shook him again. "Come on, man.  Work with me.  Keep your eyes open."

"Gen gar gengar," the Ghost-type spoke up.  He was growing increasingly agitated with their lack of mobility. Their pursuers weren't decreasing in numbers any time soon nor would _they_ be able to gain any ground by staying where they were.

Steven felt something press against his leg.  He found Aron looking up at him.  He met the small Steel-type's eyes for a few heartbeats and then felt a deep calm settle in place of the fear and uncertainty in his chest.  No, there was no giving up.  Not after everything they'd seen and been through together.  She was new to his team, but her spunk and resourcefulness was an inspiration--one he needed to continue to learn from daily.  Giving up was unacceptable.

 _Thank you, my friend._ Steven thought gratefully.  Aron seemed to hear him anyway and nuzzled his leg, accompanying her actions with noises of encouragement.

The woman noticed the change.  She watched their exchange quietly before she spoke again.  "All good then? All right…"

With a soft grunt, she stood, hefting him up with surprising strength. She was, thankfully, at least careful not to further agitate his wound.

"Just a bit longer…" She breathed, leading them out of their hiding spot and back into the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Even after a long day of celebrating and jet-lag from his trip to Sootopolis, Wallace found that sleep did not come to him easily.  Normally, the soothing, steady sound of waves, broken only by the occasional squall of a Wingull, and the familiar saltiness that permeated Sootopolis' tropical atmosphere were enough to lull him into slumber.  The ambiance of his home town worked wonders in cleansing a troubled mind of worries.

 _Well, it's certainly not working tonight._   Wallace thought peevishly as he turned from his right to his left side. It wasn't hard to figure out why. He sighed and flopped back onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

 _Perhaps I should contact his father. Just to ensure that he is safe._ Wallace mused, tracing the irregular shadows cast by the light and popcorn textured stucco with his eyes. He frowned. _But if he_ did _arrive at the dig site, surely he would have called me by now. Unless something happened…?_

Frustrated, he rolled back onto his side and stared absently at the far wall.  Steven may have teased him about being a mother hen, but it was something that was just in his nature, _especially_ when it involved Steven Stone.

His eyes were drawn to the many frames that adorned the wall directly in front of him.  The pale evening light that spilled in from the room's single window bathed the frames in irregular stripes of moonlight. In these frames were pictures that immortalized some of Wallace's most memorable experiences, of his most cherished memories.

There were various ones from his childhood.  One was of him at five standing proudly with his parents, arms straining to hold a Feebas nearly as large as he was.  Another was a snapshot from his first thrilling (and ultimately unsuccessful) Gym battle.  There was the one of him and the rest of his classmates standing outside the Sootopolis Gym as a young, dashing Juan proudly posed beside them.  Besides this picture was another of him bearing his Third Place ribbon the very first time he had competed in the Hoenn Conference.

Wallace found himself smiling as he traversed memory lane, using the pictures as his guide.  His gaze inevitably fell on one of his favorites.  The picture's setting was in a small café in Ever Grande City.  Featured in the picture was a younger version of _him_ as well as that of Steven on the day that Wallace had stepped down as Hoenn's Champion…

 _When Wallace had announced his retirement from the role of Hoenn's Champion, he fully anticipated the shock that it would elicit. After all, it was absurd to strive as hard as he had to dominate the other challengers, the Elite Four, and the-now former—Champion only to throw it away to become a_ Gym Leader _of all things.  His explanation as to_ why _he'd chosen to become Sootopolis' Gym Leader instead of his hard-won title had puzzled them even more._

 _To be fair, his reason **had** only been a half-truth.  Wallace hardly found it appropriate to let the Pokemon Association in on his private life, though.  Plus, there was the _ teensy, tiny _fact that Winona might have some protest about his relinquishment of such a prestigious position because he wanted to have more time to be with her.  She wouldn't have allowed it, even for her. Therefore, Wallace was content to let her and the world think that he simply wished to follow in Juan's footsteps--to take over as Sootopolis' Gym Leader._

" _Well," said the baffled chairman of the Pokemon Association, "if that is truly your wish…"_

_Wallace nodded, feeling all eyes in the room burning into him in bewilderment. "It is indeed, Mister Chairman. I apologize for the abruptness of my decision, but I have entertained this notion for some time. Only now have I, at last, decided to take the same path of that of my Master's."_

_The chairman looked dismayed but nodded. The Association could not force him into keeping the Hoenn Champion title. "Very well then, Master Wallace. The Association will honor your wishes."_

" _You have my utmost gratitude, Mister Chairman," Wallace thanked with an inclination of his head.  He studied the man's face for a moment.  Noting the air of disappointment that hung around the older man, Wallace spoke again, this time with great conviction and firm, unshakable confidence. "I leave the honor in more than capable hands. Of that, I am certain."_

_In his peripheral vision, Wallace saw the man standing beside him stiffen in surprise.  Despite himself, Wallace smiled fondly.  He truly meant every word.  There was not even a hint of doubt in his entire being that Steven Stone, the young heir to the Devon Corp family, and not to mention an extremely talented Steel-type trainer, would make a fantastic Champion.  Wallace's victory over Steven in their last fateful battle had been a hair's breath from defeat, something Wallace only managed to avoid with the dedication of his Pokemon, all of his skills, and—he was certain—a lot of luck._

_Steven, his good friend and equal, was more than worthy to be the Champion of Hoenn._

_The Chairman's assenting nod was instantaneous. "I agree whole-heartedly, Master Wallace."_

_The man turned in the direction where Steven was watching.  Wallace's smile deepened as he saw the astonished look on Steven's face.  He knew that Steven had been curious as to why he had been summoned to meet with Wallace and the Chairman but had been too polite to voice the question.  The Association head nodded his permission for the current Champion to take up his right in passing the title unto his successor._

" _Steven Stone," intoned Wallace, turning to the stunned man. "You have proven beyond every shadow of a doubt your mastery in not only combat but in your understanding of the duty every trainer holds not only with only his or her Pokemon but with every Pokemon. With this and the faith of your Pokemon, you have proven your merit as not only a phenomenal trainer but one worthy to ascend the heights of greatness."_

_Wallace fingered the strings that secured the ceremonial white cape around his shoulders. With a tug, the cape easily slid off. Wallace carefully spread it out in front of him, to let the light illuminate the pristine white garment. Then he turned to Steven, who visibly started at the **very** unexpected turn of events._

" _It is my honor to confer upon you the title of Champion of the Hoenn region. This is the Cape of the Champion. Wear it proudly, Steven Stone," Wallace solemnly declared, his head bowed as he reverently held out the cape to Steven.  He had a sudden flashback to the day HE had received the cape from the former Champion and the pride that he had felt as he slid the cape over his shoulders for the first time._

_The Chairman echoed his gesture.  Wallace kept his eyes on Steven, though.  For he saw the torn look on Steven's face as his friend gaped at him, expression uncertain and incredulous.  He did not even look as if he was sure that this was really happening.  Wallace longed to comfort him, but first he needed him to accept._

_When Steven's eyes met his, Wallace smiled encouragingly, infusing his expression with as much confidence and support as he could.  He ignored the regret that briefly welled up inside of him as the honor he'd fought so hard for slipped willingly from his grasp.  It was not appropriate to feel regret now, Wallace told himself firmly.  He had made his choice._

_Some of the anxiety slowly seeped from Steven's expression, at least.  Blinking rapidly (as if to ensure that he was not dreaming), the silver-haired man returned the bow as he took the cape into his hands. "T-Thank you, Master Wallace.  Mister Chairman.  I…I will defend the honor you have bestowed upon me to the fullest."_

_Wallace nodded, a melancholic smile on his face. "Please follow me then. We will register your Pokemon. Then you and your team will enter the Hall of Fame as League Champions."_

_Steven nodded absently, still looking overwhelmed.  He was alternating between staring at Wallace and at the cape in his hands.  The Chairman watched them from behind his desk, a benevolent smile on his face._

" _Congratulations, Mister Stone!  You will make a fine Champion.  You have the Pokemon Association's utmost support," the Chairman praised quietly._

" _Th-Thank you, Sir," Steven answered.  His eyes were on Wallace's, and the Water Master could see the hoard of questions gathering behind his friend's bright gray eyes. Wallace gave a small shake of his head, still smiling, and promised-without words—to explain soon._

_Both Steven and Wallace bowed to the Chairman and departed.  They walked side by side without speaking for a few moments.  Finally, Steven broke the silence._

" _You could have_ at least _warned me," he remarked quietly._

_Wallace winced and gave his friend an apologetic look. "Yes…I should have. I apologize for not showing the proper consideration. I…I would be lying if I told you that this was a decision made over night."_

" _What_ was _it that brought this on?" Steven asked with an edge of incredulity still in his voice. "It…it's quite sudden, Wallace."_

" _I…I am merely trying to rearrange my priorities in life," Wallace answered carefully, looking forward towards the door they were walking to.  He was not quite ready to depart with the real reason behind his abrupt decision just yet, even to his close friend._

_Steven fell silent. Wallace could feel his friend's eyes studying him quietly.  When several seconds passed and Steven still had not spoken, Wallace stopped and turned to him. "Listen...I sincerely apologize for thrusting this burden so unjustly at you, my friend.  Please do not feel pressured into taking this.  I did not mean to come off as if you had no choice. I—"_

" _Wallace," Steven cut in gently.  He gave Wallace an understanding smile and shook his head, making the short, neat strands of silver hair swish softly along his face. " There is no need to apologize. If anything, it is I that must apologize.  I'm honored that you thought me worthy to replace you. I am just in shock, I think. Forgive me for coming off as ungrateful."_

_Wallace couldn't hide the relief he felt.  Already, his shoulders felt lighter now that the weight of the cape—with its prestige and responsibilities-had been lifted from them.  He was also relieved that Steven did not push for any more of an explanation other than the one Wallace had given.  But there was a knowing look in Steven's eyes that told him he might not need to explain._

" _Good," Wallace went on and continued walking towards the Hall of Fame. " Because I would accept no one **but** you."_

_They passed under the threshold of the massive, sacred Hall of Fame.  All of their talk in there was the official, ceremonial jargon that came with one Champion passing the role unto his or her successor.  When they were finished, Steven looked both pleased and in utter disbelief that his name and that of his Pokemon were among the company of so many illustrious Champions of the past.  Wallace grinned and beckoned for the new Champion to follow him back outside now that the task was complete._

" _Come with me," Wallace requested._

_The other man nodded and hurried to catch up.  As the door slid shut behind them, Steven sidled up to him and looked at him curiously. " Now where are we going?"_

_Wallace gave him an affectionate grin and made an elegant bow at the waist, "To celebrate, of course. Let me have the honor of being the first to officially congratulate you with lunch, **Champion** Steven Stone."_

_He laughed when the title flustered another grin out of Steven.  Then Steven shook his head and huffed good-naturedly, "Oh come now. You can't tease me when I am doing this for you."_

_Wallace raised an eyebrow at his friend, not missing the impish note that had entered Steven's tone.  Oh, his clever, clever friend.  Still, he played it coy. "Hmm?  How do you mean?"_

_Steven just gave him that knowing little smirk again and shook his head. "Nevermind. You were saying something about lunch?"_

The rest of the memory faded into a bright pink haze.  Instinctively, Wallace knew it was the sunlight bathing his face in its warmth.  As he slowly clambered his way back to the world of the living, he found that he was still smiling from the dream.   Before he even realized what he was doing, his hand was reaching towards the other side of the bed, hoping to touch a warm body that would not be there.  When he opened his eyes, his senses were greeted by the sight of his ceiling, the smell of the sea, and the sound of Wingulls and Pelipeppers squawking at each other outside.

 _It figures._ Wallace thought, returning his eyes to the last picture he'd been looking at before he'd succumbed to sleep, at his lover's smiling face. Then his eyes drifted to his phone, which had not rung in the middle of the night. _Where are you, my love?_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Across the world, in the darkness created by a canopy of thick foliage and tangled branches, Steven let out a shuddering breath and told his grim rescuer to wait. She stopped their already slow progress and replied with a stressed, tense. "What is it?"

Steven would have answered had he not, at last, lost his struggle to stay awake. The world spun in and blurred together.  With his head pounding and his strength flagging, the world drifted away from Steven once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have not read the Pokemon Special Manga and are a bit lost on the whole thing with Wallace, Winona, and his renouncing of the Champion title, I recommend you go to Bulbepedia and look up Wallace. There is a lovely bio on him (as well as Steven) that elaborates on this bit of canon.


	5. Unable to Connect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven's absence can no longer be ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked once my interpretation of the Pokemon League ranking system (as referenced in the last chapter by Kendall's history) and thought I would include the explanation if anyone else was confused.
> 
> As for the ranking system of the Silver Conference, I am mixing anime canon with something of my own concoction. It is the only way I could rationalize how anyone could be considered 'worthy' to challenge a region's Elite Four and Champion (since the anime never acknowledges this directly). 
> 
> Of course, you have to be among the top three to be considered ready to challenge them, but I think that the Pokemon Association would also rank the other participants of the various Leagues (even the losing ones) in order to keep a record on each person for the reason that they might one day challenge the Elite Four. So in a way, it's an unofficial ranking but a way for the Association to give trainers something to strive for: to work their way up to face the best of the best. Hopefully that makes sense.

"Sir? All preparations are complete. We are ready to start whenever you give the signal."

Mr. Stone nodded and thanked the young man before he turned his back towards the cavern entrance. This dig was slated to be an exciting and potentially important due to the area's history and reputation. Before now, the world had paid little attention to the rocky, rough terrain of this vast land, content to ignore it and what little it could offer.

One of the local factories might have turned it into a dumping ground had Mr. Stone's son not intervened a few months back. It had not particularly surprised him when he had received a call from Steven with the request that they purchase the centuries old dust bowl from the oil tycoon that held the deed. It was, Steven had argued, not only a wild habitat for many of Rock and Ground-type Pokemon but also littered with caverns and nooks that could contain precious materials not yet discovered.

As both a geology enthusiast and Pokemon-lover, it had not taken much to sway Mr. Stone. Still, he had asked Steven to present a much more solid reason as to _why_ they should even consider taking up the deed for what was, as others so aptly called it, a wasteland. They were, despite their family's generous contributions to the general public, still a business.

Naturally, his son's eyes, bright even through the video-phone monitor, had become steely with determination, and it was a few days before Mr. Stone heard from him again. This time, however, Steven had shown up in person at Devon Corp after flying in on his Metagross all the way from the Johto Region. Mr. Stone had just finished a meeting with the company shareholders and had been relaxing in his office.

When his secretary had buzzed him via intercom to inform him that his son was there, Mr. Stone—in his moment of surprise—only noted with mild curiosity at the amusement in her voice. When Steven had sauntered in, however, Mr. Stone understood the hint of contained laugh in her voice the moment he saw his oldest son and heir.

Steven, dressed in his impeccable black and purple suit, was dusty from head to toe. It didn't take a genius to see that he had been on a dig, probably somewhere with a lot of sand and grit from the looks of him. That certainly would account for where the hulking chunk of rock that he laid down with a dull _thunk_ on Mr. Stone's desk had come from.

Mr. Stone, shocked, could only gape at his son and at the glimmering rock. He could still picture the little grin Steven had given him when he had smugly said, _"This, Father, is a rock that must contain at least a dozen fire stones. And this is just a small one that I found. It is from a cave in that place I spoke to you about." The smirk deepened triumphantly at Mr. Stone's expression. "Think it's worth taking a look **now**?"_

The sound of laughter coming from the other men abruptly brought Mr. Stone back from his reverie. His eyes fell on the other three that had agreed to accompany him and Steven on this trip, all of them good friends and colleagues that shared a similar passion for geology. They had shown patience so far. However, Mr. Stone knew that if Steven didn't show up soon, they'd have to start the exploration without him.

 _What's taking him? It's not like Steven to be this late._ Mr. Stone thought with another glance at his wrist watch. It was rare that his son kept him waiting when they made plans to go on a dig. If anything, it was normally Steven who scolded _him_ about punctuality whenever Mr. Stone was late to their rendezvous.

Frowning, Mr. Stone pressed the button on his phone that was specifically set to dial his son's number. His parental instincts were beginning to prickle in mild alarm, but he refused to explore that line of thought. Not yet, anyway. His son was a Pokemon Master that was more than capable of taking care of himself. _But still._

A musical ringing filled his ear. Then—to his surprise—it was followed immediately by the cool monotone of a recording that claimed his son’s phone wasn't connected to any network and that he ought to try back later. Mr. Stone pulled the phone away from his face and blinked at it. Where would Steven be that he wouldn't be able to receive phone calls?

 _His home them._ Steven sometimes stopped by Mossdeep before going off on excavations to change and drop things off, including most of his Pokemon. He claimed that they deserved to rest once in a while since his trips were long, hard, and exhausting. So whenever a large excavation was underway, he left most of his team at home, taking only one or two along as a precaution. Also, he’d been training up some new additions to his team so Mr. Stone reasoned he’d left some of the more seasoned ones at home.

Mr. Stone dialed his son's home and waited patiently to hear Steven's voice. It was a good thought but one that proved fruitless as well. His worry mounted as he hung up on the voicemail message that had begun to play. He didn't like this.

Steven was independent and free-spirited in his own oddball way. It was not unusual for him to take periods just to go adventuring, sometimes for months. However, he’d always had the courtesy to let _someone_ know that he was doing so, just to avoid needless worrying. He was especially good about letting his father know when he was unable to attend their digs, something that they both took seriously.

 _It could be nothing. Don't panic yet._ Mr. Stone grimly told himself, keeping the sinking feeling in his stomach at bay. He looked down at his phone and began dialing again. Steven might have simply forgotten to get in touch with him. However, there was one person he was sure his son would have contacted (if he wasn't _with_ him) if something had come up. _Or so I hope._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Watch it! Coming through!" Kendall called out relentlessly as he tore down the hallways, past various cubicles and colleagues who looked up in surprise at him as he whizzed by. Seagram even began barking to get people to move out of their way. They were in a frantic search for their superior.

"Sonuva… _why doesn't he appear out of nowhere when we need him to?_ " grumbled Kendall as he and Seagram slid around the corner, nearly bowling over another of their colleagues. The startled woman cried out and threw up her arms, sending the pile that she'd been hauling into a cascade of loose-leaf white sheets of paper. Kendall could only spare her an apologetic look over his shoulder as he and Seagram rushed on. "Oh! S-Sorry Hannity!"

Her angry cursing followed him down the hall. Kendall mourned for himself. There went that tiny chance he may have had with the beauty in Research and Development.

"Grow- _lithe_ ," Seagram sharply growled for him to _focus!_

Kendall shook his head, pushing his troubles aside. "Right! Sorry."

They raced down the corridor that was lined with doors, each leading to the various wings of Head Quarters. Kendall looked into the open doors that they passed, but he did not see the man that they sought in any of them. Not that he was surprised. On any busy day (like that one), there was only one place that he expected to find the man.

Sure enough, as he and Seagram neared the epicenter of their facility, the unmistakable figure of Nate Thorne appeared on the other side of the large glass doors leading into the control center of Head Quarters. This spurred them to hurry, nearly smacking into the automatic sliding doors in the process. Thorne hadn't noticed them yet. He was intently explaining something to two of their data analysts.

When he _did_ notice, Thorne abruptly cut off from whatever he had been saying and cast a cool gaze on Kendall and Seagram. Kendall fought an instinctive urge to turn and run away. Thorne was a big man at 6'2" and a body builder's frame, which he stuffed into cheesy, uncomfortable-looking navy or black suits and ties. He was rugged and gruff on the eyes, but his appearance masked the sharp intellect that had saved their organization countless times.

"Sir!" Kendall blurted out without preamble, waving the printout he'd brought in front of his face. "We have a situation!"

The two data analysts were startled by Kendall's sudden intrusion. They looked back at him with equally surprised (and annoyed) expressions, but Kendall didn't have time for them. His eyes were for Thorne alone.

"What is it?" Thorne crisply asked, snatching the paper from his hands.

Kendall swallowed thickly. "We have a Code Seventeen, Sir."

Thorne's thick, dark eyebrows furrowed. He nodded a sharp dismissal to the two analysts and drew Kendall to his side. Then his eyes went to the printout, and his face became even grimmer when he took in the words printed on the page. His gaze snapped up to Kendall. "When did this come in?"

"About an hour ago. We waited to see if it was just a malfunction, but the signal never returned so…"

Thorne nodded tersely, and Kendall could almost hear the gears cranking in his head. When he spoke again, he sounded dead serious, "We need to send someone to confirm this. Come with me. The Director must be informed if this mission has been compromised."

"Right," Kendall said, swallowing a swell of panic. _The Director?! You mean my job didn’t just finish with giving this to you?!_

He and Seagram fell into step beside Thorne, who purposefully marched down the halls. People scrambled to get out of his way. HE certainly didn’t need to tell anyone to stand aside. Kendall mulled over the distressing discovery that he and Seagram had made for a moment. Any missing agent was bad, but this particular one would create other problems if not found. Then, he asked, "Sir…should we contact, you know, _him?_ "

Thorne gave him a Look that would have withered a flower. However, he merely answered. "No. He’s on his own assignment. He'll know if something's wrong when we know."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wallace started his morning with a trip to the Cave of Origins. As the Guardian of the sacred site, it was his duty to protect and honor what was said to have been the birthplace of life itself. He had not understood the importance of his role as a child. However, as the years passed and Wallace saw more of the world, his eyes were slowly opened as to why his people held a _cave_ in such reverence. It wasn't the _cave_ , as he'd come to realize at one point, that his people revered but the precious miracle that was _life_ —which was what the Cave of Origins symbolized.

Juan met up with him on his way to the shrine. Together, the two Water-Masters made their way down Sootopolis City's quiet streets, down the stairs that connected the higher levels of the city to the lower ones, and onto the loamy earth that covered the entrance leading into the cavern. Of course they did not pass the threshold of the cavern entrance, for it was a sacred law that allowed no citizen of Sootopolis City to set foot inside the cave's boundaries.

Instead, Wallace and Juan stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the shrine that had been set up for those who wished to pay homage to the cave. They lit sticks of incense and planted them into the small black pot filled with sand (gathered from Sootopolis' own beach) and clasped their hands into quiet prayer. The crisp, refreshing morning air around them was warmed by the tendrils of smoke and took on a pleasant, spicey smell.

When their blessings were concluded, Juan was the first to speak. "Are you rested, my old pupil?"

Wallace hesitantly nodded. The dream and Steven was still heavy on his mind. "Yes. I slept…well, satisfactorily, I suppose. It was…it was unusual to be sleeping in my own bed instead of in my apartment in Ever Grande City. I’m sure it will just take a day or two."

Juan didn't seem to mind his evasive answer. He merely nodded, smiling onto the peaceful sight of Sootopolis City as it slowly awoke to the sun's prompting. "Ah…that is understandable. There are few places like this one. And even _if_ it were possible to see a more beautiful place, there surely would be a lacking of the strange magic our Sootopolis possesses!"

The pride in Juan's voice of their beloved city made Wallace grin. He shared his teacher's feelings. Wallace was certain that no matter how far he traveled, that no matter how many enchanting places he saw, no place would ever be able to hold his heart the way Sootopolis City did.

"So what is the plan for today, Master?" Wallace asked and added with a chuckle. "I am yours to command."

Juan opened his mouth to reply but stopped when something past Wallace's shoulder caught his eye. Curious, Wallace craned his head around. A young man garbed in swimming trunks, a tank top, and sandals was descending the stairs, his purpose clearly being to reach _them_. Wallace recognized him to be one of Juan's current pupils.

"Master Juan. Master Wallace," He greeted with a carefully practiced bow.

"Hello Triton," Wallace returned politely. Triton's head snapped up in surprise. He looked surprised, then very, very pleased. It was, in all likelihood, probably because Wallace had actually remembered his name. It never ceased to amaze Wallace how many of Juan's current apprentices reacted in such a pleased or overjoyed manner whenever they realized that he recognized them.

"What is it, young Triton?" Juan inquired.

Triton looked at him. "Master, a challenger has come seeking a battle with you."

"Ah! An early bird!" Juan beamed. Battles were his favorite way to warm his Pokemon up for the rest of the day. He threw his head back, hand planted on one hip, chin tilted upward dramatically. "Very well. I shall return immediately. Tell the others to begin. If this challenger has any promise to back his bravado, I shall expect him past our ice puzzle and waiting!"

"Yes Sir!" Triton agreed enthusiastically. He gave them another bow and scampered off.

Juan fondly watched his student go. Then he turned to Wallace. "Will you be joining us, Wallace?"

"I would enjoy watching," Wallace admitted. "I am curious to see how far along your new apprentices have come."

Juan's large grin took on that proud gleam again. "I think you will be impressed. I admit, though, I pity this challenger. He or she has come at a most unfortunate time."

Wallace cocked his head at him curiously. "What do you mean, Master?"

At this, Juan gave him an incredibly amused look. "Wallace…the Hoenn region _Champion_ is here. How would _you_ battle if you knew that the top trainer of the region was watching _you_?"

Wallace was reminded again of his elevated status among the students and blushed sheepishly. "Ah, I see your point."

"Come along," Juan chuckled, turning towards the stairs.

The sounds of a battle could be heard all the way from outside of the Gym. Juan and Wallace thanked the water ferryman that conveyed them to the Gym's island before dismounting. Juan listened to the clashing sounds that emanated from inside the Gym's walls for a second. Then he nodded approvingly and said. "From the sounds of it, this one has spirit!"

Wallace noted an added pep to his Master's step as the man gracefully swept through the doors. Immediately, they were met by the noise of a fierce battle that was being waged in the lower portion of the Gym. Through a jagged hole in the iced flooring—probably where the challenger had fallen through—Wallace caught a glimpse of a Bellosum fighting it out with a Clamperl.

It didn't take long for their arrival to be noticed. "Oh! Master Juan! Master Wallace! Good morning!"

A junior trainer that was participating in the Gym Battle left her spot along the railing to greet them. She and several others were watching the battle from the ground floor on the ice's edge. Juan and Wallace met her half way, and Juan immediately launched into business. "How is it looking so far, Dana?"

"Not bad, actually! He…" Dana trailed off momentarily as the challenger—who Wallace could now identify as a mousy-haired boy in red and orange—effectively defeated the Clamperl. Dana blinked down into the scene, impressed, and then went on cheerfully. "He is a Grass-type trainer from the looks of it. He had a Tangela that walked in with him. Plus, we saw him fly in on a Tropius."

Instead of anxiety one might expect to see from a Water-type user after learning such a thing, there was _excitement_ on Juan's face. He clapped his hands together. "Delightful! Too long has it been since we have faced a worthy adversary!"

Dana, though obviously used to Juan's ways, hid her amusement behind a dubious look. "I don't know, Master. He seems pretty tough."

Juan gave her a hundred-watt smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Student of mine, challenge is the spice of life! Ah! It looks as if our worthy opponent has defeated Jetsom! Splendid! Pardon me, young Dana. I must go to my post and see if this young man truly is worthy of the Rain Badge."

Wallace bowed his head to Juan. "I too must be excused for a moment, Master. I need to make a phone call."

"Very well," Juan replied and turned to walk towards the place in where he would meet the challenger should the boy manage to reach him. Dana and the other junior trainers eagerly followed him away.

Wallace smiled, seeing that some things never changed. Juan's charismatic personality was as constant as the ocean breeze in Sootopolis. Leaving the main area of the Gym, Wallace made his way to a doorway that would lead into the back rooms. It had been years, but he still felt like it was yesterday that he had spent every day in this Gym. From the many years that he had trained and fought here, he had come to know it like the back of his hand. So it did not take long for him to slip down the hallway and into the break room that the junior trainers used when Juan gave them a recess.

He discovered it already occupied. The frizzy-haired girl that he'd met the day before sat at the table consuming a huge heap of fruits, yogurt, and granola. Her eyes were glued to the television as she expertly navigated through channels all the while feeding herself with her other hand. Wallace caught blurbs of programs on each station as she continually changed channels.

"— _best Vitamins on the market! You will be amazed after you see the different in your Pokemon's dexterity and stamina after feeding it just ONE of our special—"_

_A crowd was booing. A disgruntled looking woman leapt up from her seat on the stage, "Oh shut up! SHUT UP! You all don't know me! You don't KNOW ME! Shut the—"_

" _Know what we're doing today, Mr. Sparks?" A Pikachu shook its head, feigning confusion. "Well…today we're going to play The Poke Ball Wheel Game! Let's—"_

"— _members of the Pokemon G-Men raided and arrested what is believed to be the top three men of the infamous Darkman Gang. They are a notorious gang of thieves that specialize in Dark-type Pokemon and have been suspected to have been responsible for the fire in the Lavender City Pokemon Center two months ago. A spokesman for the Pokemon G-Men had this to say…"_

It took a second for Brenne to realize that she wasn't alone any longer. Her head jerked in his direction, and she leapt up in surprise. "Oh! Master Wallace! I didn't see you there!"

"Yes…good morning, Brenne," Wallace greeted uncertainly as his eyes roved over the cache of food. "What's this?"

Brenne blushed and shrugged. "Breakfast! Uh…" She pawed through the large bowl of fruit and presented a banana to him. "Would you like something?"

Wallace politely declined. "No thank you. I just need to make a phone call."

"Oh! I'll turn the television down then. Er…I'll just go…get more granola…" Brenne said awkwardly. Wallace smiled his appreciation and was rewarded with a dreamy smile.

As soon as she scampered out, he pulled out his phone and attempted to call Steven again. The worry had taken a firm hold, and he didn’t find it unreasonable at all that he was fretting over Steven’s silence. It was just too out of character for the silver-haired man. Wallace did not like the thought that something could have happened to him, but he was unable to shake the strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Again, he was met with the same message stating that Steven was not connected to a network. Wallace tried Steven's home, but it too was of no avail. He even called Devon Corp to see if Steven had perhaps stopped by in the past twenty-four hours. Mr. Stone's secretary politely told him that Steven hadn't been there for weeks and that he ought to be on a dig in Johto with his father.

 _Yes._ Wallace thought as he stared down at his phone. _But I would know by now._

His fine brows knit together in concern as the thought he'd been staunchly keeping at bay became all he could think about. _Steven…did something happen to you?_

He nearly jumped out of his skin as the screen on the phone lit up, and the phone began to ring. It surprised him to see who it was—according to his Caller ID—that was calling. His heart pounding, Wallace hit the answer button and brought the phone to his face. "Hello?"

"Wallace. Hello, it's Sedgewick."

"Yes, I know. Is everything okay, Mr. Stone?" Wallace wanted to demand immediately if Steven had arrived safely, but it would be impolite. There was a worried overtone in Mr. Stone's voice that Wallace hoped he was only imagining.

"I hope so. I was wondering if Steven was with you. He has not shown up for our dig, and I can't get a hold of him. His brother hasn’t heard from him either."

Wallace's mouth went dry. The knot in his stomach twisted even more tightly, making him feel sick. "He's not here, Mr. Stone. He left _days_ ago for the dig. I haven't heard from him since. I…I thought he'd be with _you_."

 


End file.
